


Rise To Power

by Windona



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Politics, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 18:45:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6765529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windona/pseuds/Windona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three months after the Qunari invasion, and it's clear that Knight Commander Meredith will not be letting a new Viscount to be chosen, and there are no candidates strong enough to challenge her. Well, except for the Champion of Kirkwall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rise To Power

“More bullshit!” Cassandra said, clanging her sword against her armor. “It was a planned coup! Everyone came to usurp Kirkwall’s proper leadership, and place the Champion as Viscountess after the Arishok’s death!”

“Well, Hawke wasn’t planning to usurp and disrupt all leadership with her Champion status. At least, not initially,” Varric said, readjusting his posture in preparation for a longer story. “Although the road to the office did begin about two months after she became Champion…”

At the Amell Estate, Marian Hawke sat on the floor, neck craning up towards a wonderfully done family portrait. It was a few decades old, but well maintained enough that the colors were vibrant and the details shone through. A stately elder couple with sophistication and culture on every brushstroke stood behind their two children in the painting, but the way the older man’s hand rested on his daughter’s shoulder gave a hint of warmth. The son had a strong jaw and a petulant look, but even through the paint the love for his family was clear.

_So Carver really does look a lot like a younger Gamlen,_ Hawke thought. She studied the image of her uncle’s face before her eyes fell on her mother.

It had been two months since the Qunari invasion, and thus two months and seven days since her mother’s death. Yet every time she looked at the image, she couldn’t help but feel tears well up and her throat begin to close. She may have held a neutral and smiling face for reconstruction efforts and taking care of household business, but in these quiet moments she just fell to pieces.

She reached her hand out towards her mother’s face, then pulled it back and looked at it. A driving need to do _something_ to make up for her failure, for the city’s failure, rose up in her stomach. Usually after this she would review the land purchase orders and the notes on how various houses were being built, but tonight she dropped her hand down and pressed her forehead into her knees.

She could purchase as many destroyed buildings in Lowtown, use well paid local labor, and distribute them out as cheaply as she wanted, but it still wasn’t enough. The ache of failing her mother still lingered, no matter how many times her friends insisted that was not true. As she spent her tears again and began to fall to an exhausted sleep on the floor, she swore she heard her mother distantly say, “The Amells have always done what they could to help the city, and in you that trait shines through.”

It was when she woke up the next morning, blanket wrapped around her and a pillow underneath her head giving her smile, that she knew what she had to do. First, she made a note to thank Anders for making sure she was comfortable. Then a couple of weeks later she arranged for a meeting that would change Thedas forever.

* * *

 

 

The air of the Hanged Man was thick with the scent of dust and alcohol, even in the early afternoon. Hawke walked up the steps to Varric’s room, steps as sure as ever after so many years of knowing each other. Looking up at her, it was clear that she had something on her mind beyond lingering grief from the tension in her brow. Yet ever the diplomat, Hawke still put on a relaxed smile for her old friend.

“What’s wrong, Hawke, Champion life not agreeing with you?” Varric said, lounging back in his chair.

“Oh, the accolades are quite nice. But you know, me being crowned Champion is not the only thing to come out of the Qunari invasion,” Hawke said, gracefully dropping herself into the chair across from Varric.

“Well, Isabela still hasn’t turned up. And a lot of buildings need renovations and rebuilding. Keeps coin flowing, makes it a good time to invest,” Varric said lightly before looking up at Hawke, who was now grasping her left wrist with her right hand. “But that’s not what you’re concerned about.”

“It has been three months Varric, and Knight Commander Meredith has been stomping out any attempt for a new Viscount to be named,” Hawke explained, carefully ignoring the Isabela question.

Varric leaned back, nodding. “Worried that she’ll bring the hammer down on you, Blondie, and Daisy?”

“I’m worried about more than that. Meredith has been using the chaos as an excuse to tighten her control, instituting curfews and harsher punishments on everyone. And despite her official rejection of the Tranquil Solution, there have been more mages illegally put through the rite. I tried to bring it up to the Grand Cleric, but all she has said is that ‘she will act when the time is right’.” Hawke slumped. “I’m beginning to think it would take Andraste herself walking into the Chantry for Elthina to do anything resembling her job.”

Varric tapped his left fingers on the table. “It sounds like you’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

Hawke nodded. “I have. And when I voiced some of my complaints to Aveline, she suggested that I do something about it.”

“And you want me to help you with that ‘something’,” Varric said with a knowing smile.

Hawke grinned, rolling her shoulders back and raising her chin. “Remember when I told you that I was interested in politics?”

Varric sputtered, aghast. “You want in that hornet’s nest _now_ of all times?”

“When better? Meredith is unopposed by anyone but the Grand Enchanter, who can’t enter politics. But, if I were to use my status and my alliances to pull in enough support…” Hawke said, gesturing with her right hand.

“The Knight-Commander can’t do anything about it if the entire city wants you to lead them. But Hawke, do you know how hard getting that support will be? And Meredith isn’t one to bow out of a fight gracefully,” Varric warned, taking a deep sip of ale to finish his words off.

Hawke leaned back, still smiling. “I know. And that is why I want you to be my campaign manager.”

Varric tapped his fingers for a few moments, thinking about it. Then he smiled. “Well, having the Viscountess in my pocket can’t hurt. What’s your plan of attack?”

Hawke pulled out her rolls of vellum, listing various people and groups and how likely they were to support her candidacy. The rest of the night was spent detailing how they would go about gaining support, and gaining the approval for becoming Viscount. And Hawke, being the proactive sort, got started on it the next day.

Of course, Hawke being the Champion who was well loved in Kirkwall, it merely took an announcement of her wanting to throw her hat into the ring for everyone to-

“Varric. Tethras.”

So Hawke, being the smart woman she is, woke up bright and early the next morning and made her way over to the City Guard office. She went to Aveline’s door, and flung it open.

“Aveline,” she boomed, “I have an amazing idea and I blame you!”

“Hawke,” Aveline said, “Can it wait until I’m done talking to Guardsman Brennan?”

Hawke scanned the room, and gave a sheepish wave to Brennan, which Brennan returned. “Right. Sorry. I’ll just… be in the guards’ breakroom. Fetch me when you’re done.”

Aveline gave her assent as Hawke left the room, Hawke knowing from routine visits where to go. She plopped down in a chair, and found Donnic scarfing down a post-patrol meal across from her. Donnic gave a nod of greeting, and went back to his food while Hawke looked around the room. She saw a couple of guards talking in frustrated whispers, and another one scowling at the wall. After scanning and seeing more guards with tension in their stance and frustration in their bones, Hawke asked, “Why are all the guards so on edge?”

Donnic dutifully swallowed his food, and took a moment to answer. “It’s the Knight-Commander of the Templars. Normally Templars deal with mages and Chantry business, while the guardsmen deal with the normal criminals and crime. Templars and the guards always need to work together on some level, like with the Butcher of Lowtown case, but there’s always some tension. Templars think their special training and devotion to the Maker makes them infallible, and guardsmen can be territorial challenge seekers. But with the Knight Commander effectively ruling the city, Templars have been trying to take charge more. Sometimes they like to try and pressure Aveline to arrange patrols around them, or one will come up to a patrol without any approval and make us their personal soldiers.”

“And the only way to make sure Meredith stops stepping on your toes is if the Grand Cleric finally decides to step in or a new Viscount is chosen.”

Donnic nodded. “Exactly. And given the power the Knight Commander has, the only way she would let a new Viscount be chosen would be if they would let Meredith walk all over them anyway.”

Hawke leaned back. “What if there was a strong candidate for Viscount that would go against Meredith? Would you support her?”

Donnic raised an eyebrow. “A strong candidate- like yourself?”

Hawke gave a cautious smile.

“Hawke, if you want to challenge the Knight Commander, I’m behind you all the way.”

“You want to challenge the Knight Commander?” Hawke turned around at the familiar voice of Aveline, standing right behind with a concerned look on her face.

“You told me I should do something good for the city with my Champion status,” Hawke answered.

“And it is a good idea; who better to be in charge of Kirkwall than the one who routed out the conspirators and ended the invasion in the first place?” Donnic added.

“Is that what you came to talk to me about?” Aveline said, suspiciously relieved.

“I was hoping to see if I could count on the support of the City Guard,” Hawke replied.

“Well, it is good to see you doing something for the city and take up a job besides mercenary. You have it. Good on you for taking my advice,” Aveline said with a motherly smile.

“Just like that?” Hawke asked, turning to Donnic.

“You saved my life, Brennan’s life, and the life of so many other guards on your usual adventures. From taking down that bandit group to aiding the guards against gang members in the middle of the night. I don’t know any guard that wouldn’t have your back, especially over the Templars. Even with the odd company you sometimes keep,” Donnic said.

Hawke grinned. “Thanks Donnic. But to beat Her Holy Hammer, I need others to stand with the guards.” Hawke stood up, giving a head bow of acknowledgement and walked out.

“Good luck, Hawke!” Donnic called out as Hawke left Vigil’s Keep, and walked out into the bright light of day.

* * *

 

“Oh, hello Hawke. I’m sorry my place is such a mess,” Merrill said, neatening up one of the few pieces of clutter in her rather well kept tenement.

“Merrill, trust me; your place is nowhere near the worst I’ve seen. Remember, I volunteer in Anders’ clinic sometimes,” Hawke said with a chuckle, seating herself at the lone creaky table.

“Oh, right. Are we going to go adventuring today? Or are you here just for a visit?” Merrill asked, looking a bit distracted.

“Anders hasn’t cleared me for fighting yet, only sparring. And even then he lectured Fenris on being gentle.” Hawke said with a casual smile. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you. I could use your help with something.”

“What do you need help with? Well, not need, since I am sure you don’t need me- but if you do, I would be willing to help. I owe you that much,” Merrill babbled, waving her arms about as she gestured.

Hawke leaned back. “Well, I have a few questions for you. One of which is how much the elves in the Alienage like Meredith.”

“Meredith? Who is Meredith again?”

Hawke narrowed her eyes, taking in the paleness of Merrill’s skin contrasting with the darkness under her eyes. “Merrill, have you been out at all recently?”

“Oh no, I am far too busy working on the Eluvian.”

“Merrill.” Hawke sighed, slumping forward.

Merrill crossed her arms, frowning. “You understand why I need to complete it. You even gave me the tools. And you recognized that the arulin’holm belonged in Dalish hands.”

Hawke raised her hands, palms forward and fingers splayed. “I know, and I stick by it- but that doesn’t mean that you should stay inside all day and night working on it without break.”

“Then I will never finish it,” Merrill said bluntly.

Hawke took a second to think, then sat ramrod straight. “Actually, taking breaks might make it easier to finish. If you get stuck on how to fix a part, taking a walk in the sunlight and trying to appreciate what your ancestors would have appreciated might give you some inspiration. Talking to others in the Alienage could spark something. And I might need you at your best, most rested state.”

Merrill nodded, eyes blank enough to show her not listening.

Hawke frowned, and said, “Anyway, I came to ask a favor of you. And I think it’s something that only you could accomplish.”

“What?” Merrill asked, frowning slightly.

Making a show of looking around the room, Hawke lowered her voice and said, “I’m campaigning to be Viscountess of Kirkwall, and I need to know what the elves in the Alienage need from their leader.”

“Hawke, you’re not the leader of the elves,” Merrill replied with a head shake and a smile.

“No, but I want to be the leader of Kirkwall. And the elves in the Alienage live in Kirkwall, and have an effect on the city as it does them. If I get the chance to do something, I want to do right by them.”

Merril tapped a finger against the wooden table mindlessly. “That’s a rather noble goal. I will let you know if I hear anything. Good luck Hawke!”

Hawke stood up, uttered her thanks, and left. She took note of the mud and buildings. While the fighting in Lowtown had been concentrated elsewhere, there still had been riots and spill over from converted elves and nearby battles. Shrapnel from the Qunari’s warpath up from the docks had landed on some buildings.

Predictably, the lower amount of damage and disregard for the elves meant that they got less money to help rebuild.

Hawke managed the short yet winding walk from the Alienage up to her uncle’s dilapidated house. It stood as dirty and squalid as always, scrunched underneath two other homesteads and crammed next to yet another tenement. Hawke walked up, and used the knocking pattern for family.

“Ah, Marian. Good to see you,” Gamlen said while opening the door.

Hawke nodded at the sentiment, even if it was probably not sincere. She then pulled a package out of her pack. “Uncle. Here.”

Gamlen reached for it, cautious and confused. He looked at the writing on it, then back at Hawke. “The handwriting. It’s-“

“I know.” Hawke sighed. “Mother. She, uh, got you a birthday present and wrapped it early. It was found in her room.” Hawke did not mention how it was Anders and Orana who had to go into her mother’s room to carefully make sure there was nothing that would rot, and found the package with careful handwriting. She also did not mention how many times she had stared at that package, as unable to touch it as she was to go into her mother’s room.

Hawke could not bear to rip or crinkle the paper her mother used to wrap it. She was not even sure if she ever wanted to know what her mother had been planning to give Gamlen. It still hurt far too much.

“I- thank you, Marian,” Gamlen said with rare emotional truth.

Hawke nodded, and departed, not being able to bring herself to say anything more.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this chapter is mostly set up. I will tag more characters as they appear in the fic, as I doubt anyone wants to read a fic where the chapters with their favorite characters have yet to be posted.
> 
> This came from, in part, the fact that you can constantly say 'Make me Viscount!' in Act 3, yet you can only do so if you join the Templar Side and not in time to actually do anything about the main conflict in Act 3. While I know it's for gameplay purposes, I thought that Hawke should be able to do something in the three years between Act 2 and 3. Thus this fic was born.
> 
> Many thanks to TheRevanchist for betaing!


End file.
